Not A Fairy Tale
by DoctorWhoFan9
Summary: "Mummy! Tell us a story, The one about the lost prince and the mortal girl that saved him!"
1. Tell us a story

**I do not own Thor.**

**Note: Amaranth means "undying flower" and Alexander means "defender of men"**

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"Tell us a story mummy!"

"Yeah Story! Please?"

Their mother smiled sighing. "Alright, but just one" she warned.

"Ok!"

"Yay! Story!"

She laughed softly as she watched her children cheer. "What tale should I tell?"

"The one about the lost prince and the mortal girl that saved him!" Her eldest, her son Alexander, exclaimed.

"Yes mummy! Please, please, please!" Her daughter begged bouncing on her bed slightly.

"Alright, alright. The lost prince it is then. And mind, this is a true story, not a fairy tale." The woman gently smoothed the blankets over the children before beginning her tale. "Now, a very, very long time ago, in a cold dark realm, full of ice and snow and war, a queen gave birth to wide eyed babe. Now in this land full of giants with eyes red as blood, and the queen's new born son was so very small and per the laws of her land the child was to be left in the cold, snowy dark to die. The poor queen wept bitterly as she handed their small child to his father, who took the child stone faced out onto the battle field with him, leaving his son at the edge of the fray before plunging into the horrible battle…"

She stopped when she heard a sniffle from her daughter. "What is it my little flower?" she asked gently smoothing the girl's auburn hair.

"H-he left his baby out in t-the cold all a-lone."

"Oh, Amaranth, my flower, it will be alright, I promise." the girl nodded and hugged her mother as she began her tale again.


	2. The Battle

The giants from the snowy realm fought brutally against those the mortals would call gods. The kings of both armies fought, each desperately trying to get the upper hand, but neither could, and many on both sides were dying. Eventually the gods from Asgard had destroyed enough of his force that the Giant's king had no choice but to surrender, if only to save his people from utter destruction. He, and what was left of his army retreated to their icy city, leaving the other king to gather his dead and return to his realm as quickly as possible, for the ice giant's king had lost too much already that day.

Asgard's king walked through the battle field, directing his men to their fallen and injured fellows. As he neared the edge of their battle ground he heard a faint wail of an infant. The king followed the noise until he reached the half frozen child and stared in awe with his one eye at the babe. So small, even by his people's standards, and so utterly helpless.

The king took off his battle stained cloak and carefully wrapped the small babe in it, only to be amazed when the child's cobalt blue skin faded to pale peach, and blood red eyes turned to green. He carefully took the small boy's hand in his, only to be more surprised when he was not burned, and the child stopped crying for an instant and stared up at the king's face. After a moment the babe started to fuss again.

"Hush, child." He soothed. "Soon you shall be safe and well cared for."

The king surveyed his men to see that all had been gathered and they were prepared to leave. He held the child close to him as he walked back to his men.

"Heimdall! Open the Bifrost!" he called to the heavens.

And then he, his men and the ice king's abandoned babe were gone in a swirl of light and color.


	3. A new home

**I still do not own Thor.**

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"Frigga!" the king of Asgard called wearily as he entered his chambers.

"Odin? Thank Vallhalla you're back safe!" His wife cried running toward him, their young son Thor cradled in her arms.

"Father!" Thor cried happily squirming in his mother's arms.

Odin smiled weakly at his wife and son. "Frigga, I must speak with you-"

The king was cut off by the weak cries of the babe saftly hidden in his cloak.

"Odin…?" the queen questioned suspicion raising within her as she looked at the bundle in his arms. The king pulled back the cloth so his wife and son could see the new born child. The babe, weak as he was, reached out to her with his small hands staring at her with large, unhappy, green eyes and tears falling down his pale face. "Odin- where-?"

"On the battle field. He was left to die, Frigga."

"You mean…?"

The battle worn king nodded. "He is a frost giant, though he does not look it and will not burn."

"He's so small…."

"That is why he was meant to die."

Thor tugged lightly on his mother's dress And wrinkled his nose slightly, pointing at the baby. "He's crying."

The queen put her son down and took the babe from her husband's arms, cooing softly as she sent for Thor's old cradle and some honeyed milk.

"Whose child was he?"

"Laufey." Frigga's head jerked up, her eyes flashing.

"And his mother allowed her son to be abandoned on the battle field?"

"I doubt she had much choice."

"I wanna see the baby." Thor instisted, tugging lightly on his mother's skirts.

"Not at the moment my son. Right now he needs food. And both you and he need sleep." Frigga smiled down at her son. "Come Thor, bid your father good night, it is late."

The young boy tottled over to his father, bid him good night and allowed himself to be taken to his bed. When Frigga returned the searvents had brotten Thor's old cradle placing it near their bed, and had placed the milk on the table. The queen silently feed the dark haired babe and rocked him in her arms until he slept. Gently placing him in the cradle she asked softly, "has he a name?"

"None that I know."

"And shall we keep him?"

"If you wish." Frigga nodded.

"Good night my son" she whispered kissing his head. "Sleep well, my little Loki…"

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**Please review!**


	4. The Fall

**I still do not own Thor :(**

**Reviews**** are welcome!**

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The young princes grew. Thor became tall, strong, fierce, and a great warrior. Loki grew to be quick, not only on his feet but with his wit as well, a skilled speaker and magician. They were as different as day and night, but together they were nearly unstoppable. Together they laughed, played, cried, and fought, friends and brothers until they were young men.

Thor, the Thunderer was loved by all, Loki, the Liesmith and trickster, eyed with suspicion and veiled hate. Loki, unhappy with his lot and scorned by his brother, his father and all of Asgard, driven to the edge of his sanity by the horrible truth of his parentage, he did the unspeakable, attempting to destroy an entire race. Thor stopped his brother but at great cost, he could never see his own beloved Jane again for to stop Loki he had to destroy the rainbow bridge.

The explosion was terrible, throwing both princes causing them both to fall toward the abyss. Odin caught hold of his eldest while Thor fought to hold the staff his brother clung to.

"I could have done it father! For you! For all of us!" the dark prince pleaded.

"No Loki."

The dark prince's green eyes filled with pain before all emotion drained from his face. With one last look at the man he called father and the one he had called his brother, he let go of the staff and fell into the never ending dark of the abyss.

"NO!" the thunderer roared as he stared at his brother's falling form in despair.

"No." Odin whispered as he watched the pain of both his sons, and the loss of his youngest.

Life continued in Asgard as she mourned the death of a prince and the loss of the Bifrost. Thor mourned for his brother, for even after all that Loki had done and even after learning the trickster's true parentage, Asgard's golden prince could view him as nothing but a brother.

Loki fell, surrounded by nothing but darkness and cold and consumed by his hate and pain. There was no light for the fallen prince, no warmth, not even a drop of it. And he made a deal with the devil just to end his punishment and fulfill his vengeance on those who wronged him.


	5. The Grey Willow

**The name Willow means graceful. The name Logan, in its Irish origin means meadow. **

Now, before I continue the prince's tale, I must introduce you to the young woman who is our lost prince's savior. She was born to two loving parents, her father a warm and caring soul who loved his family with all his heart, and wouldn't stand for injustice; her mother, a fiery sprit, full of love and life and music. The child grew up happy, full of light and joy. She had her mother's fire and her father's sense of justice. She drew people to her like a moth to a flame.

When she was eight, she went to stay with her cousin for the weekend. While she was gone her home was attacked and burned to the ground. Her parents were killed, but even with their dying breaths they reached out for each other. She stayed with her cousin and her aunt and uncle, who treated her as though she were their own.

As she and her cousin grew older, they grew closer as did their friends, they became a family, a family that they all desperately needed.

"Wills! Come on! We're gonna be late!"

"I'm coming Lo, give me a minute! Gosh!" Willow Grey called to her cousin, as she grabbed her jacket and phone.

"That's what you said five minutes ago." Logan huffed, his arms crossed over his chest.

"You are over exaggerating. It was only three minutes."

"I can never win with you can I?" He asked following her to the door of the apartment they shared.

"Yeah… no. You really can't." She laughed.

Logan sighed, rolling his eyes as he locked their door.

"Oh, come on you know you love me." Willow smiled as she bumped her cousin with her shoulder.

"Yeah, I do." He replied, offering her his arm. "Shall we mi lady?"

"Indeed we shall my good sir" she laughed linking their arms before they started for Central Park to meet their friends, not knowing that in less than forty-eight hours their home would be under attack.


End file.
